


Wir sind verloren

by Monika-s Moniker (Dan_Francisco)



Series: The Sleepwalkers [2]
Category: Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: Alternate Universe - World War I, Gen, Horrors of War, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Triple Drabble
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-17
Updated: 2020-11-21
Packaged: 2021-03-02 20:42:50
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 300
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24233020
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dan_Francisco/pseuds/Monika-s%20Moniker
Summary: WWI AU drabbles, wherein Dorothea is a combat medic.
Series: The Sleepwalkers [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1861168
Comments: 6
Kudos: 5





	1. Das graue Niemandsland

Just down the trench, the soldiers sang a low, quiet song. It wasn't the grand operas Dorothea had sung in Vienna, but a bleak, dreary song with lyrics that reflected their dismal outlook on life.

It was quiet today. Yesterday, Dorothea had treated over a hundred wounded men, at least. Each one was victim of the recent attack, the Kaiserschlacht. That had been her first day on the front line.

With stilted breaths, Dorothea poured her tea into her cup, swallowing hard. Her hands couldn't stop shaking as she lifted her tea up, anxiety clouding the flavor of black tea.


	2. Wo alle Straßen enden

The artillery barrage was unusually strong today. The British must have been preparing to attack. Dorothea shuddered as the shells fell down on the bunker she sought shelter in, each one shaking loose dust and dirt around from the ceiling. Her tea shook, both from the guns and the anxiety. Something itched. She looked down, seeing that her boots had become worn down, a hole in them.

All around her, wounded men groaned. A sergeant lay just ahead of her, heavily wounded and a "goner." Well, he didn't need his boots anymore. Dorothea sized them up - a near perfect fit.


	3. Des Todes bittre Hand

Dorothea took shelter underneath the narrow ditch as dirt and fragments flew over her head. As she covered Adrian with her body she looked down. Her uniform, once stone gray, was now bloodstained and muddy. Adrian's was worse. The scent of blood mixed with dirt, gunpowder, and a curious smokiness she couldn't place.

"D-Dorothea," Adrian muttered over the din of rifle fire and artillery.

"Don't talk, I'll get you out."

"It's... it's okay."

Another triple threat of rounds exploded near her. "What is?" she asked.

Adrian coughed, before looking into her eyes. "You can leave me." Dorothea found herself speechless.


End file.
